The Devil's Conviction
by Melor Zima
Summary: Essentially a sequel to Dostoevsky's 'Demons', it follows the journey of Pyotr Stepanovich Verkhovensky after his departure from the Province and the novel. It details his sudden desertion to St. Petersburg and his escape to Europe as a fugitive as he battles with his own demons.
1. The introduction

An Introduction

The train began to move, Erkel waved once more but Pyotr did not notice he had taken his seat opposite the Colonel and the merchant. He bowed his head to them while his young friend, Sergei, introduced his most favourite person.

"Colonel Berestov, Mr Pripuhlov this is my dear friend Pyotr Stepanovich Verkhovensky. I met him through my relative Yuliya Mikhailovna, the cousin to my mother. Stepanovich has received a quest from her to deliver some letters on her behalf to friends in Petersburg so he will be travelling with us for at least the remainder of Pripuhlov's journey."

The two men bowed their heads to Stepanovich in reply to the introduction and glanced at Sergei before enquiring more about this new acquaintance of theirs. They directed their questions towards Stepanovich whilst passing looks between him and Sergei.

"So Pyotr you are Stepanovich Verkhovensky?" asked the Colonel forwardly.

"I am sir and yourself the legendary Colonel Berestov, I have heard many tales of your campaigns throughout Europe and Asia." Replied Verkhovensky with a tone of admiration.

"Indeed! I like this one Sergei he knows how to flatter! Stepanovich are you of Stepan Trofimovich Verkhovensky?"

"Yes sir, I am the son of the man you speak of, Stepan Trofimovich is my father." Answered Stepanovich.

"The son! Haha! Nothing like the father I hope, the man could not play whisp to save his life. Now I recall that he owes me money as well."

"You know my father then Colonel?"

"No, not at all! But I played him once in Petersburg at cards. I recall his name but not his features. Is he still a daring gambler?"

"I cannot say sir, the brief amount of time I have spent with my father have been passed by conversation that did not stretch as far as his gambling years."

"Then I hope his son has inherited his weakness at cards!" Saying this; the Colonel gave Pripuhlov a friendly push and bellowed with laughter. Pripuhlov did not join in the laughter but sat quietly inspecting the face of Stepanovich who joined with a slight chuckle. The merchant had his eyes fixed on Stepanovich throughout his short conversation with Berestov, scrutinising each word that slivered out of Stepanovich's mouth. He had thought Pyotr suspicious and as a man who prided himself on an excellent judge of character he had taken a dislike to Pyotr immediately despite the looks of reassurance he had been receiving from Sergei.

"So Mr Verkhovensky," Pripuhlov said formerly, "you are intimate with Yuliya Mikhailovna?"

"I believe 'intimate' to be an over statement sir, I am merely a servant to the noble lady but I shall not deny that she has taken to me quite fondly."

"Oh you do not do yourself justice Stepanovich," interrupted Sergei, "Pyotr is intimate enough to be treated as a son, residing in her house and being given permission to make use of all her resources!"

"Is this true?" asked Pripuhlov.

"It can be said that I am at liberty to request certain things from the lady but I am by no means considered a son." Replied Stepanovich modestly, feigning a blush.

"I myself am acquainted with the lady, even more so with her husband Andrey Antonovich."

"Ah the good Von Lembke, yes I too am acquainted with the man and am quite fond of him."

"Then you would have heard the recent news about his health, would you not?"

"Indeed I would sir, a terrible outcome for such a great man."

"I was wondering if there was anything more you may share with me about the fire Antonovich was so nobly attempting to help with before being knocked unconscious."

"You know as much as me sir, that Von Lembke may have lost control over his faculties when he, as you say, so 'nobly' helped with the fire. It was a terrible night and one which I would rather forget. There are rumours of he being moved to a place where he may relax and recover I wish him a swift recovery as Yuliya is beside herself."

"Then she is lucky to have one such as you by her side." Pripuhlov said this with a convincing sincerity that only Stepanovich saw through. Pyotr answered with but a smile to Pripuhlov before Berestov seized control of the conversation once more.

"Come now! Enough of this melancholy speech! Sergei promised me a game and I am eager to see how our new friend here Pyotr plays! Not to mention Pripuhlov I am eager to acquire some more of your riches from you, you must stop playing with me otherwise you will end up with nothing on your person but your beard!" All but Pripuhlov laughed at this joke who replied with a simple grunt.


	2. The Card Game

The Card Game

The four gentlemen gathered around the desk in their first class cabin. It was wide but so were the Colonel and the merchant who had to sit rather close to one another in order to accommodate themselves in the game. Stepanovich and Sergei sat comfortably opposite the two gentlemen and the merchant watched them enviously.

"Can you not move over some more Berestov!" The merchant exclaimed out of irritation.

"Why Priphulov I didn't realise you found me so repulsive, do you not wish to sit on my lap?" The Colonel replied in jest.

"Come Pripuhlov, come sit next to Pyotr, I shall sit with Berestov." Sergei interjected in the hope that the game may be started quickly. He stood and wandered around the table as Priphulov shuffled over next to Pyotr who struggled to hide is discomfort at having to sit next to this rather bloated man.

"Sir," Pyotr spoke addressing himself to Pripuhlov, "might you be more comfortable if you relieved yourself of your rather large and, if I may say so, grand over coat?"

"Pripuhlov never takes that thing off when travelling now do you?" Berestov interrupted before Pripuhlov had chance to answer.

"I am quite alright sir," replied the merchant to Pyotr, "I never travel without this coat and I never relieve myself of it until I am at my destination. It is an old superstition that has run in my family for generations. Were I to take this coat off prematurely I would fear that here is where my journey would end for better or for worse." Pyotr smiled at the merchant who, having replied to him and maintaining his stubborn conviction to continue wearing the coat, turned then to Berestov and patiently watched as he shuffled and divided the cards. Pyotr grimaced at the sight of Pripuhlov and mumbled under his breath,

"Foolish man with his ridiculous superstitions, were I to tell him that if he were to take his shoes off before reaching home his feet would drop off he would believe me." Pyotr then turned to peer out the window. It was almost seven in the morning and they had been travelling for one hour. The town he had left behind him, although no more than 60 miles behind seemed distant. EHe His mind flashed through the recent event: the murder of Shatov, the binding of the quintet and the suicide of Kirilov. He pondered on the final words of Erkel who confessed his doubts about the other members to Pyotr before leaving and the words of comfort he had given him.

"Those fools will no doubt stay firm, if not for the cause then most certainly for their own sakes the cowards! As long as they recover their senses swiftly and maintain control over their faculties all shall go as planned. Besides they are not my concern anymore, almost certainly I will never see them again. With no plans to return and no address for them to come find me I will be spared the suffering of having to endure their company once more. I have more pressing matters to be concerned with now for sure. What did Razumov mean when he notified me of immediate danger? Have the St. Petersburg quintet been discovered? Are we ourselves victim to a traitor once more? I must be patient, all shall be revealed to me soon." Stepanovich thought to himself, staring out the window in a sort of day dream state. Sergei motioned to Pripuhlov to wake Pyotr as the game was about to begin.

"Pyotr! Out of that dream world now! Money is to be made!" Pripuhlov shouted as he violently shook Pyotr out of his state. Pripuhlov was very serious when it came to money, as a millionaire he would be foolish not to, he always said that,

"A man does not become wealthy by wasting money, and I, as a wealthy man, deem all expenditure as a waste!"

Pyotr surprised at the brutish awakening he had received, gasped before turning to face the merchant goggle eyed.

"Yes! Of course! I apologise! What is the game?" Pyotr stated rehabilitating himself with his acquaintances and the game that was now ready to take place.

"The game, my boy, is whisp! Are you familiar with it? It is a most excellent game and one that is only equalled by the skill I am blessed with in playing it!" Berestov answered passionately.

"Then you have me at a disadvantage Colonel Berestov, although I am acquainted with it, I must confess my guilt of never having played it and my ignorance of the rules."

"Haha!" Bellowed Berestov, "Just like your father boy! He too could not play it!"

"Allow me to familiarise you with the rules." Spoke Sergei, "It's played by four players, hence why I invited you to sit with us, there are two partnerships, you shall partner with Berestov and I with Pripuhlov..."

"Ah you are lucky then boy! Together we shall rob Pripuhlov blind!" Interrupted Berestov, Pripuhlov replied with a simple grunt and cut his eyes at the Colonel.

"Berestov shall deal first, I shall shuffle the pack and you cut it," continued Sergei, "we use a standard pack of cards with ace being the highest and two the lowest. We each get 13 cards with the last being turned over to indicate which suit is trump, the player to the dealers left leads to the first trick, the game continues until 13 tricks are played with the partnership's scores being added up, if there is no clear winner we play again." After finishing Sergei pulled out the pack of cards and began to shuffle them, while glancing at Stepanovich for confirmation that the rules were understood. Pyotr gave a slight nod and smiled at his young friend.

"I hope the pace will not be too quick, I am a beginner after all." Pyotr stated out loud to the group.

"Nonsense! The swifter the pace the quicker you will grasp it." Pripuhlov answered firmly.

"You have been playing it with me for years and you still havn't grasped it!" Berestov shouted before bursting into a great laughter. Sergei passed the deck to Pyotr who cut them and passed them onto Berestov who recovered quickly at the sight of deck.

"Right let us have a wager! To start off with, every game that goes our way we win 150 roubles, every game that goes your way you win 50!" The Colonel directed towards Pripuhlov who sat up alerted in response to the wager.

"Absolutely not Berestov! 50 each to start with!"

"Now, now Pripuhlov you forget that I am burdened with a mere infant, a beginner to the game. You cannot deny that I am crippled!" Berestov replied while peering over to Pyotr winking at him. "While you have Sergei whom I have coached since he was a child!"

"100 roubles, no higher." Pripuhlov said stubbornly.

"Done!" Berestov dealt the cards with great care whilst fixing his eyes on all other players. Sergei leaned forward, the anticipation was clearly visible in his young face, which was in total contrast to the merchant who sat up proudly with a face like stone taking the game very seriously. Pyotr, like Sergei leaned forward but only to create the impression that he was fully immersed in the game when in reality his thoughts wandered elsewhere. Upon the turn of the final card the game begun. The room fell silent, Sergei played his card, then Pripuhlov, Pyotr looked at his the hand dealt to him and threw down a four of hearts indifferently. Berestov, his eyes still fixed on the other players, barely looked at his hand before placing his card carefully on the others. Pyotr felt himself slip away again, as if his body continued in this reality while his mind wandered some distant land filled with worries, doubts and deception. He perused the words of Razumov,

"Immediate danger, what could it mean?" He thought to himself, "It is just me? Or are we all in immediate danger? If it is just me I do not see how, I was careful when I was last in St Petersburg. Is it serious enough to leave Russia? I wonder..."

"Pyotr! It's your turn!" shouted Sergei interrupting his thoughts and breaking the tense silence that had immersed the room.

"I apologise gentlemen, the early hour must have got to me." Stepanovich placed his card on the table before Berestov finished the game with his last.

"Let us count!" cried Berestov, the partnerships tallied their scores and it was revealed that Pyotr and Berestov had won!

"I don't believe it! He was barely paying attention!" Shouted Pripuhlov, directing his anger towards Pyotr whose mind had only rejoined the game at the end.

"Ah! My dear Pripuhlov it is monument to my skill at the game not Pyotr's luck, my winnings make up two thirds of our lot!" The Colonel did not lie; Pyotr had not played his best game. Pripuhlov threw his roubles across the table to Pyotr and Sergei handed his to Berestov congratulating him on his tactics.

"Another game?" Sergei inquired.

"Of course! You Pripuhlov?"

"I will as long as Verkhovensky can hold back his fatigue." Pripuhlov replied as he passed a rather rude scowl over to Pyotr who chose to ignore it.

"I promise I shall remain present in this next game, gentlemen." Pripuhlov shuffled the deck and passed them onto Berestov who cut them and then handed them to Sergei who began to deal.

"You won't get the better of us this game." Sergei said playfully

"Boy you don't get to the rank of Colonel without a disposition for tactics and strategy!" Berestov jested.

"Neither do you accumulate a million by losing wagers to a lowly Colonel!" Pripuhlov added.

Stepanovich glanced at the three players and listened to their playful attacks on each other and thought to himself:

"I am surrounded by fools."


End file.
